Something Like That
by NanoKitty
Summary: Stork's teammates are acting strange. Paranoia to the rescue! Stork centric, but all Storm Hawks involved.
1. Chapter 1

Storm Hawks:

**"Something Like That"**

(This story takes place after episode (34 – 208) "Second Chances"

and before episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor")

**Rated T for some violence.**

**Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.**

**Paranoia to the rescue! Stork centric, but all Storm Hawks involved.**

* * *

><p>Still standing in the <em>Condor's<em> exit port, Stork raised a hand to shield his eyes from the blistering sun and warily peered out across the burning sands. Not too far off, the surging sea raked its fingers across the shoreline, scouring the area clean of debris.

"And remind me again, _why_ are we vacationing on a stiflingly torrid, venomous sand flea infested, _sweltering_ beach while the _Condor's_ climate control is shot?" The Merb helmsman's voice rose in pitch and he nervously clutched at the doorframe. "Unless it is your intention to speed up our agonizing and untimely demise by throwing heatstroke into the mix?"

"Come on, buddy, a break on Terra Tropica is not going to kill you." Aerrow ignored his green-skinned friend's muttered 'wanna bet' and shot his pilot a thousand-watt smile. If anyone needed some relaxation, it was Stork. "Besides, after a little R&R, we'll be recharged enough to fix up the _Condor_ as good as new! Not to mention that it'll be a bit cooler in the ship once the sun has set." The Storm Hawk leader gestured for him to join the others and moved to place a hand on the Merb's shoulder.

"True. But sundown is also when the flesh-burrowing-delirium-beetles become . . . _active_," Stork muttered darkly, his left eye twitching. His pale yellow eyes quivered and Stork shifted away from Aerrow's grasp. "They lay their eggs in your hair, you know, which hatch and tunnel up your ears. The symptoms aren't easy to miss: dizziness, disorientation, headache, impulsiveness . . ." Stork anxiously shifted his weight and peered past Aerrow's shoulder. He allowed his gaze to settle on Finn and Junko, already changed into their swimming trunks and lobbing tightly packed sand balls at each other. Piper and Radarr were already running into the surf, taking cover to escape the onslaught. "Er . . .." Stork dropped his gaze back to his red-haired leader. "_Or_ it might already be too late for _some_ of us. I'll just keep an eye on the ship, if you don't mind."

Aerrow's good-natured laugh cut Stork short. "Stork, it's not _torrid_ . . . I think the word you were looking for is _sultry_. I thought you hated cold weather. Besides," Aerrow leaned forward conspiratorially, "if you would join us in the water, you'd cool off in no time."

"And risk being bitten by slimer-eels?" Stork abruptly turned back into the ship and snapped the hatch closed.

Sighing, Aerrow stared at the door. How long had it been since the Merb had joined his team? Since its inception really. And yet, no matter how he tried, he still was unable to push through Stork's personal defenses. Aerrow pondered a moment longer, a frown tugging his lips, then turned to join the guys' game of sandball. After all, what better way to train the ol' battle reflexes?

* * *

><p>Stork stopped by the viewport a few steps down the <em>Condor's<em> stifling corridors. The silence of the now-quiet engines was only broken by the occasional _ping_ of settling metal. He peered out the window, watching his teammates at play. A twinge of anxiety . . . and regret . . . wormed into his gut and the Merb rested his forehead against the hot glass. The kindness and friendship the others proffered him still surprised the helmsman, and he _did_ wish that Aerrow had persisted in dragging him out of the ship, but . . .. Stork paused to draw a shaky breath, a thin bead of sweat tracing a line down the side of his face. It was dangerous trusting in others. That was one lesson well-learned. Sighing heavily, Stork lifted his head and stalked down the corridor. It really was too hot on the ship. There was work to be done.

"Air conditioning needs to be fixed . . . starboard stabilizers need realignment . . . not to mention that the crystal intake lines are leaking . . . _again_ . . ." Stork wound through the hallways, taking inventory of the necessary repairs and murmuring softly beneath his breath. The last Talon attack had left them with a larger-than-normal repair list, not to mention the ionizing gale that hit the ship yesterday. He passed a doorway, paused, and backpedaled to peer into the small room. "_And_ it would appear that the plumbing has backed up." He eyed the damp floor around the toilet briefly, then tapped the button to slide the door closed and turned back toward his original destination. "Air conditioning first." Besides, it was Finn's turn to clean the bathroom.

Stork paused for the auxiliary room door to swish open. If anything, the air here lay hotter and more stagnant than in the rest of the ship. "Okay, baby, tell me what's wrong." Pushing the long black hair from his eyes, Stork grabbed his case of tools and knelt to pry open an access panel. The board came off with a sharp clang, a puff of dust exploding in its wake.

"_Finn_ . . ." The Merb growled, coughing. The entire climate array was coated in a film of dust, sand leaking down through the toggles and wires to drift on the floor of the unit. The image of Finn and Junko tossing sandballs swam to the surface of his mind. Had the rash sharpshooter been throwing them _inside the ship_?

Exasperated, Stork drew a steadying breath, blinked the sweat from his eyes, and swept the dirt from the panel. No damage, just a few loose connections. He plucked a sonic screwdriver from his toolbox and tightened the ports. A low whine rose from the array and the helmsman straightened. A nice cool breeze - dusty at first - rushed from the vent. His ears twitched in pleasure, the two small silver rings in his left ear glinting in the overhead light, and Stork allowed himself a small smile at the success.

"Ah, now to make some . . . adjustments." A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. His teammates would be back soon. Why let them have all the fun? Now would be the perfect time to lay a trap for the flesh-burrowing-delirium-beetles.

Stork worked in silence for a time, bypassing a few systems and rerouting a single function from the array. He wiped the accumulating frost from a pair of the system lines and briskly rubbed his hands together. The trap was set. A sudden loud slam echoed from across the ship, followed by a scream. Startled, Stork jumped. "It would appear the beetles are active early today. I set that trap just in time." A slow smile eased onto his face and the helmsman carefully closed the panel and went to see if his captured beetles would make good pets.

Finn's yowls rose in crescendo as Stork neared the entrance bay. Tremulously, he peered around the corner to see Finn still standing in the doorway. The wingman was covered in ice and shivering in his swimming trunks, snow drifting down from the overhead vent as his teammates around him laughed.

The paranoid Merb froze, horrified that his teammate tripped yet another of his booby traps. Meeting Aerrow's startled look, Stork stepped into the room, an evil grin spreading across his face. If his teammates thought that he'd set a prank trap specifically for Finn, so be it. The melting snow would make a mess to clean up . . . not to mention having to reset the delirium-beetle trap, but seeing the look on Finn's face was _so_ worth it.

"I fixed the air conditioning."

* * *

><p>Three days on that wretched beach, and Stork managed to not so much as step foot onto the sand. And even then it was only the increasingly violent storms that drove the remaining Storm Hawks back to the confines of their carrier ship. The Merb was quite proud of himself for surviving the dangerous lure of Terra Tropica. The helmsman nervously scratched at the rash that he was sure had broken out on his side. Aerrow had threatened him with the promise of dragging him off the <em>Condor<em>, kicking and screaming if necessary, the next time that they vacationed there. He pushed the future terror off, refusing to think further on it. At least for now, the Storm Hawks were once more under way.

"There you go." Stork gingerly clamped the access port closed on the reinforced glass terrarium sitting on his heavy metal bookshelf. The terrarium took up the entire top of the shelf - his books stacked neatly to either side of it - but the Merb pilot didn't mind. Once his caustic-waxwing-puffball had fed, he enjoyed watching it lightly drift around the confines of its cage. The deadly arthropod tapped once against the side, extending its spiny suckers and pressing its maw against the glass. Stork rapped his knuckles against the cage, dislodging the creature before its acidic saliva could damage the glass and examined the small pulsating crystal set into the terrarium's power source. "Hm. Looks like I'll need a new bolster stone soon."

Caring for his pet unwound the pilot after an entire day spent on repair work. While the rest of the Storm Hawks were willing to help out - Junko especially was good with the heavy nit and grit mechanics - most of the complicated systems fell to him. He dropped a hand to the small chronometer globe on his nightstand. "Sorry baby, the rest will have to wait until tomorrow." Stretching, Stork turned toward his bed and shrugged off his shirt.

"Stork, one of the power crystals in the velocity crystal array is starting to show signs of stress." Piper was already talking even before the door finished opening. The dark-skinned specialist briskly stepped over the threshold. "I can see hairline cracks extending all around the base. I don't think it's critical yet, but I . . ."

Surprised, Stork yelped and spun around to face her, arms raised defensively. Still trembling, the Merb studied Piper, his eyes narrowing when he realized she had been staring at his back. He shifted uncomfortably. No doubt Piper had seen the webwork of thin scars crisscrossing his skin. They were somewhat obscured by the natural pattern of spots dappling his shoulders and arms and the stripes banding his ribcage, but up close they were quite visible. Involuntarily, his left eye twitched. Stork's voice lowered ominously. "Do you _mind_?"

"Ah, I uh," Piper stammered, cheeks burning, and tugged her eyes away from the pilot's chest. Sure, she had seen Stork in (and out of) nothing but a towel back when Ravess breached the stratosphere with her musical mayhem, but back then the Storm Hawk crystal mage was somewhat distracted by the Cyclonians' attack . . . to say nothing of the Merb's state of undress . . . to notice the fine lines marring his back. "I . . . I think we shouldn't engage the, um, impeller until it's replaced . . . I'll catch up with you tomorrow to discuss it." Piper swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and forced a weak smile onto her lips. Much that she never understood about their helmsman - things not adequately explained by his time spent in the wastelands - suddenly made sense. "Stork, I . . ." She paused, but a single glance at his pale, green face confirmed his desire for her to leave. Without waiting for a reply, she slipped back out the door.

Dragging in a shuddering breath, Stork brought a trembling hand to rub one temple. After a moment to steady himself, the Merb turned once again away from the door. He forcibly shoved the image of Piper's shocked expression from his mind and moved to grab his trance helmet. Instead, a thin sheeting of dust powdering the heavy toolbox he used as a nightstand caught his eye. Annoyed, Stork ran a finger through it. "And _that's_ why I don't like the beach!"

The dark-skinned girl's intrusion momentarily forgotten, Stork wiped the rest of the dust from the table. Perhaps the sand wasn't from the shore. Maybe some sort of noxious critter from the beach evaded his traps and tracked it in or perhaps it was residue from the ionizing gale the _Condor_ had run afoul of earlier. Stork frowned. "I'll look into it tomorrow. That is, if I don't die from scorpion-wasp venom first."

Sighing heavily, Stork picked up the large steel helmet sitting on his nightstand and checked the main and secondary dials set into the front. He had built the trance helmet a long time ago. It calmed the body and slowed the pulse borne of sustained stress that interfered with sleep. But most importantly, it quieted the night terrors that plagued him since before his days in the wastelands. Satisfied the cycle setting was correct, Stork slipped it on his head. He pressed the red button on its side and dropped into an oblivious, dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>AN – Sonic screwdriver courtesy of _Dr. Who_.

Critique, questions and reviews are welcome. Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

Storm Hawks:

"**Something Like That**"

(This story takes place after episode (34 – 208) "Second Chances"

and before episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor")

**Rated T for some violence.**

**Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.**

**Stork's teammates are acting strange. Paranoia to the rescue! Stork centric, but all Storm Hawks involved.**

* * *

><p>"There you go, baby." Stork affectionately stroked his fingers across the large timepulse globe, then turned to check the autopilot. Satisfied, the green-skinned Merb moved to the door and stepped off the bridge. Even though it was now late morning, he was still the only one awake. "A sure sign of flesh-burrowing-delirium-beetles. I suppose I'll have to sterilize the entire ship to eradicate the eggs. Maybe <em>now<em> would be a good time to check the engine room," he murmured to himself. His stomach growled and he hastily amended, "after breakfast."

The helmsman stepped through the hexagonal door into the kitchen and headed to the old, battered refrigerator hunkered against the left wall. He shoved a crudely-drawn caricature of Dark Ace aside to examine the squadron's chore chart. "Hmm . . . Junko's on breakfast duty. Maybe it's not such a bad thing that the others slept in." Finding a clean pan and bowl, Stork set about making his breakfast.

"I can't believe it's so late! Why didn't you wake me? And on my day to cook, too!" Bursting through the door, Junko hurried to the stove. He accidentally bumped into the wiry pilot, knocking the bowl from the Merb's hands and sending it rolling across the floor. "Oops, sorry!" The thickly-built Wallop bent to scoop up the bowl and shook the remains of Stork's half-cooked breakfast from it before dumping in oatmeal, milk and sugar and setting it to simmer on the burner.

"Ah, no need," Stork jittered darkly, getting out another pot and beginning to cook his breakfast a second time. "I prefer _not_ to put myself in mortal danger simply by eating breakfast."

Oblivious to the jab at his cooking skills, Junko added a pinch of salt to the team's oatmeal and grabbed a spoon to stir it. "I tell you, I must've activated my knucklebusters in my sleep last night." The Wallop turned down the heat to keep the porridge from boiling over. "My room sure was a mess this morning."

"Uh. Huh." He did _not_ need anything else to add to his repair list. Stork slid the thin, plate-sized pancake he was cooking from the pan and grabbed a handful of cloudberries to top it. He warily eyed the chopped sky squid Junko was now happily stirring into the oatmeal. "Flesh-burrowing-delirium-beetles will do that, you know. Nightmares, I mean. It's only a matter of time now before the hallucinations start." Grimly shaking his head, Stork lifted his plate and headed toward the table.

"Morning, dudes! Boy, am I hungry! What's for breakfast?" Finn slid through the door, peered into Junko's oatmeal pot and pulled a face. "Seriously not cool, man." The spiky blonde-haired sharpshooter smoothly plucked the plate from Stork's fingers, flashing his trademark finger-pistols. "Thanks dude! Chicka-cha!"

Stiffening, Stork frowned as Finn snarfed down the food, then set about making breakfast. Again. "Um, you know, if you insist on swallowing without chewing you'll more than likely choke."

"You know, Junko, _that_," Finn ignored the pilot and spoke through a mouthful of pancake, "does nothing to settle my stomach. I dreamt that I was swallowed whole by a giant flesh-eating gargoyle!" He shook the fork in Junko's direction. "Crazy, huh?"

"Uh, Finn, that actually _did_ happen, you know." Junko tasted the oatmeal, grimaced, and added more sky squid to the pot.

"Oh, right," Finn shrugged. "Still left me with a monster of a headache, dude."

"Headaches, symptom number three," Stork intoned darkly.

"What's this I hear about headaches?" Aerrow sauntered through the door, Radarr clinging to his shoulder. "I've been fighting one since I got up, but that could be Radarr making a nest in my hair last night."

"Flesh. Burrowing. Delirium. _Beetles_!" Dragging in a shuddering breath, Stork clenched a fist, his breakfast held in the other trembling hand. "_Why_ will no one ever listen to me?"

"It's good to see that you are your normal cheerful self." Aerrow jovially greeted his pilot. The squad leader trundled past Junko, raising an eyebrow at the Wallop's pot of sky squid oatmeal, and lightly lifted the plate from Stork's hands. "Thanks, buddy."

Stork abruptly froze, his shoulders tremoring. The green-skinned Merb drew in a steadying breath and wordlessly turned to start another replacement dish.

"You know, I didn't sleep too well either." Aerrow stabbed a piece of pancake and thoughtfully chewed. He offered a piece to Radarr, who shook his head and chirped, instead leaping to Stork's back and snatching the cloudberries from his fingers.

"Aah!" Stork squawked, shaking the small lemur-like creature from his shoulders. Scolding the pilot, Radarr angrily chittered and climbed onto the kitchen table to finish his meal in peace.

"Neither of us did. I think we're both just a bit cranky this morning."

Pausing to consider his Sky Knight's words, Stork dropped another handful of cloudberries over his fourth newly-cooked pancake. The squadron leader did look tired, still rubbing the redness from his bright green eyes.

"Morning, guys, I'm sorry I overslept. It looks like I'm the last one up, huh?" The hexagonal door swished open once more, admitting Piper to the kitchen. "Another big day of repairs ahead of us, right?"

His left eye twitching, Stork turned and wordlessly proffered her his plate.

"Gee, thanks, Stork!" Piper favored the Merb with a warm smile and laid a hand on his arm. "You're a lifesaver!"

"No problem," the pilot gritted through clenched teeth, his voice hitching halfway through 'problem.' He stiffened beneath the crystal specialist's touch. His eye twitched again.

"You know, Stork," Piper's smile flickered and her eyes narrowed uncharacteristically, "you really ought to look into that twitch." Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on his forearm. "It might be an Alterian-mind-worm infestation," she teased, mocking him.

The Merb pilot cringed. Ducking his head slightly, Stork allowed his fine black hair to fall between them, cutting off any further conversation. Only when Piper had taken her seat did he pluck up the empty pan and turn back to the stove.

"It looks like I was a bit too slow today," his teammates' exchange going unnoticed, Junko picked up his pot of sky squid oatmeal and plunked it in the middle of the table, "but don't worry, there's plenty for everyone."

"Oops, sorry, gotta run!" Finn jumped up from his chair and scooted out the door. "Us too!" Piper grabbed Aerrow and Radarr and quickly followed.

"Uh . . . where'd everyone go?" Junko turned to Stork, proffering him a bowl of oatmeal.

"Um, no thanks." The helmsman paled and waved the Wallop away.

"Oh well, more for me!" Happily dumping the contents of the entire pot into his mouth, Junko tossed the pot into the sink and strolled out the door.

Groaning, Stork glanced around the now-empty kitchen, then down to the final pancake in his pan. At least now he could eat. "But there is no way I am doing the dishes!" He slid his food onto a clean plate and sank down at the table only to leap back up as the _Condor's_ proximity alarm suddenly blared.

Yelping, Stork eyed his untouched breakfast sadly and, leaving it on the table, dashed out the door to the bridge.

* * *

><p>"Finn, man the energy cannon! Piper, grab some stun crystals and get out there! Junko, cover her! Radarr, you're with me - Dark Ace is here! Scramble!" Aerrow twisted to meet Stork's eyes as he ran onto the bridge. "Evasive maneuvers, now!"<p>

"On it!" Stork dashed to the helm and flicked the autopilot off. Beneath their feet, the _Condor_ shuddered under a missile strike. Aerrow, Radarr clinging to his shoulder, dashed out to the launch deck after his squad.

"I _really_ don't like facing certain annihilation," Stork threw his weight backwards, pulling the wheel and dragging the Condor out of the way of another incoming energy strike, "on an empty stomach!" The wind was picking up, scattering the swarm of Talon and Storm Hawk fighters alike. Outside, a trio of enemy skimmers broke from the main body and dove in a strafing run. A scattering of fine grit peppered the hull and intake ports along with the crystal energy blasts in the Talons' wake. Fighting to steady the ship, Stork clutched the helm and leveled the _Condor_ so Finn could bring the cannon to bear.

"Come _on_, Finn," Stork eased up on the controls, allowing the wind to spin the ship, and kept the cannon aligned with the group of Talon fighters. "Time to take them out before there's nothing left of us to aim at!"

"I'm trying, dude!" Finn's voice crackled over the intercom. "If you'd hold her still, I could nail these guys!"

"If I held her still, we'd be smeared into a million little pieces!" Stork gritted back. He could see the fighters loop around for another pass. "Just take out the lead skimmer!" The helmsman reflexively ducked as another barrage of energy bolts hit the _Condor_ squarely on the forward plating. A large spiderweb crack walked down the ship's windshield and the _Condor_ shuddered again. "No-no-no-no-no!" Stork yanked the helm to the left, clipping the enemy vehicle and smashing it from the sky. On the edge of his vision, he could see Finn's barrage of fire trailing after the attacking Talons. It was unlike the sharpshooter to have such bad aim. Shaking, Stork gripped the helm tighter. "_Finn_! Are you sleeping? Do you think you could manage to miss them _all_?"

"Well maybe if you were a better _pilot_," came Finn's atypical caustic reply, "the Condor wouldn't be so . . ."

Ears drooping, Stork pressed a button and cut out Finn's voice, determined to ignore the jibe. In front of the ship, Junko zipped by, only to be shot out of the air, yelling. Piper dived to catch the falling Wallop. Stunned, Stork jabbed Finn's communication channel back open. "Um, Finn, I'm not sure that you are aware, but Junko is On. _Our_. Side!"

"Sorry dude!" Finn blasted cover fire to allow Piper time to pull Junko up behind her.

"Guys, focus!" Aerrow blazed across the _Condor's_ nose, hot on Dark Ace's tail. A swarm of Talon skimmers streamed in his wake.

Throwing his weight sideways, Stork pulled the ship into a roll, yanking the handful of enemy skimmers caught in his jet stream off course. "Oh yeah." He smirked as they spiraled toward the wastelands.

"Aerrow! Stork!" Piper's panicked voice cut over the com system. "I don't think we . . . Aaah!"

"Piper!" Aerrow tried to loop back to where enemy Talons had Piper and Junko locked in a crushing flank. A sudden blast vaporized the girl's heliscooter's propeller, and she and the Wallop riding shotgun plummeted. "Hang on!"

"Don't you have better things to do, boy?" Dark Ace cut across his wing, forcing Aerrow away from his teammates. "Like die?" Red eyes flashing, Dark Ace jumped up on the wings of his skimmer, slamming a power crystal into the hilt of his sword. "This time . . . no mercy!"

Banking hard to the right, Stork deftly slipped the _Condor_ between the combatants and allowed Piper and Junko a controlled crash on the skimmer deck. He winced, then smirked, at the muffled thud as one of the Talons failed to turn and impacted the carrier. "Gotcha!"

Overhead, dark clouds thickened the sky. Several fat raindrops splattered on the windshield and a sudden gale-force wind cut through the battle. Stork watched in dismay as a hunk of armor plating tore away from the _Condor's_ side. "So much for our new repairs to the plating." He switched to Aerrow's com frequency. "I can most definitely say that if we don't make this fast, we'll lose a lot more than some armor."

"Just keep them off your tail!" Zigzagging crazily, the Storm Hawks leader switched control to Radarr and jumped on his ride's wings, oblivious to the driving rain. "Dark Ace! Face me!" Aerrow swung an energy bolt from his lightning blades, forcing the enemy commander to dive to avoid a direct hit.

"Not today, boy!" The red-eyed warrior abruptly cut his engines, dropping back tandem with Aerrow. With a vile smirk, he swung his luridly glowing double-bladed sword and neatly severed the Storm Hawk's port wing. "Have fun in the wastelands!" Eyes glinting maliciously, Dark Ace waved good-bye.

"In your dreams!" Snatching Radarr from the sidecar, Aerrow leaped from the plummeting wreck, deploying his glider wings and banking back toward the _Condor_. A bolt of lightning split the sky, briefly backlighting the Storm Hawk leader.

"I don't think so." Twisting around, Dark Ace fired a bolt from his sword and blasted Aerrow from the sky. Laughing, Dark Ace signaled a retreat and disappeared with his squadron into the roiling clouds.

"Stork, catch them!" Now back on the bridge, Piper screamed and clutched at Junko. She squinted through the driving rain to see Aerrow - his glider wings twisted and smoking - vanish beneath the cloud layer.

"Come on, come on, come on!" Throwing his weight forward, Stork shoved the _Condor_ into a nosedive. Aerrow and Radarr were too far away. He kicked on the high-speed impeller, eyes widening in terror as the jagged peaks of the wastelands rose to fill his view. Shuddering under the stress, the ship's crystalline impeller drive spasmed once and suddenly imploded, the auxiliary velocity crystal fracturing under the strain. A blaring klaxon alarm shrieked through the bridge.

"Come on, baby . . ." Stork coaxed, cutting all secondary systems to compensate for the sudden drop, and sharply yanked the helm. The carrier's nose bashed once against a twisted volcanic peak before rebounding and scooping Aerrow and a madly shrieking Radarr from the air moments before impact.

"That's my girl." The Merb pilot affectionately patted the console and grinned, flashing a thumbs-up to Radarr and the Storm Hawks leader plastered - spreadeagled - on the _Condor's_ windshield. Rivulets of rain coursed around the pair, the gathering storm rumbling ominously. With a final pat, Stork cut the impeller, cringing at the loud grating whine overlaying the usual low knocking in the _Condor's_ engine. He gently pulled the carrier ship back to cruising altitude.

"Stork! I thought I told you not to engage the impeller!" Piper huffed in exasperation and crossed her arms.

"Ah, yes. So you did." Stunned, the helmsman shot Piper an incredulous look then dropped in a dead faint.

* * *

><p>AN:

Thing With No Talent: This fic was heavily inspired by the cartoon episode #26 "Dude, Where's My Condor?" along with a few other episodes. I haven't read your stories yet, but I will definitely check them out as soon as I'm finished with this story!

As always, please review! Critique, questions and comments are encouraged.


	3. Chapter 3

Storm Hawks:

"**Something Like That**"

(This story takes place after episode (34 – 208) "Second Chances"

and before episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor")

**Rated T for some violence.**

**Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.**

**Stork's teammates are acting strange. Paranoia to the rescue! Stork centric, but all Storm Hawks involved.**

* * *

><p>Stork twisted the last pair of wires and soldered the tips together with shaking hands before jamming the entire wad back into the console. He flicked off the soldering torch and set it down. "On a scale of horrible to catastrophic, I'd say this is complete disaster," he murmured in a tremoring voice. "The entire array has fused."<p>

Huffing in annoyance, Aerrow placed his hands on his hips and leaned over the helmsman to examine the damage. The rain still thundered down outside, leaking ever so slightly through the crack in the windshield. "That's not acceptable, Stork. We need to get off this rock."

"With the _Condor_ in this bad of shape, we're not going _anywhere_. It's lucky we found somewhere to dock at all." Flinching at his leader's sudden movement, the carrier pilot pressed his back against the ship's console. He slid down its length and ducked out from beneath Aerrow's shadow. In truth, though, the terra where the _Condor_ was currently moored was – in actual fact - ideal. Jagged peaks and crevices riddled the plateau, a particularly large overhang provided the perfect spot under which the suspended carrier ship was currently grappled. Not only did the terra's rough form protect the ship from the worst of the weather, but also shielded it from enemy detection.

"Hmm." Aerrow studied the Merb with narrowed eyes. He knew he shouldn't be so hard on the pilot, but Dark Ace was still out there and the _Condor_ was dead in the air. "Perhaps. But I suggest you pick up the pace."

Quavering beneath his leader's irate gaze, Stork nodded anxiously, his eyes darting about the bridge. He _had_ been running diagnostics all day, with only a short break for lunch - which had been so stressful that he couldn't eat much, despite having missed breakfast that morning. Even after assigning each of his teammates a checklist of tasks, the repair list remained impossibly long. "Not only is the _Condor_ sporting new battle damage on top of the old, but the carrier suffered a lot of harm when the cracked velocity crystal fractured. The resultant energy spike cascaded through the ship's systems, frying at least half of them. Not to mention the engine room is now such a raging inferno that we had to simply seal the door shut and hope that it will burn itself out." Stork sighed heavily. "In short . . . we're do-o-o-oomed."

"At least the air conditioning still works." Finn flashed a cocky smile and leaned against the control dash. His laughing blue eyes flickered. "Too bad you can't fix the rest of the ship like that."

Aerrow rolled his eyes at that, and irritably flicked the puddling water from the ship's dashboard. A huge bolt of lightning sliced the darkened sky outside, and the deep roll of thunder echoed through the suspended _Condor_, shaking it and rolling the carrier in its moorings.

"Aaaaaaaah!" Lightning crackled through the fried circuitry, highlighting Finn in a rigor of shock bolts.

Squawking in alarm, Stork flattened himself against the helm. To his side, a small light began flashing insistently. Pulling himself over to it, Stork eyed the readout. "A distress signal," he jittered, "from Terra Rex. The . . ."

". . . Rex Guardians will deal with it," Aerrow finished for him. The rest of the Storm Hawk squadron agreed wholeheartedly with their Sky Knight. Aerrow shot Stork a warning look when he saw the pilot about to object. "We've got problems of our own."

"Besides," Junko cut in, "I'm hungry. We should take a break after that last battle."

"Um, not to be contrary or anything, but the signal is _from_ the Guardians. The skimmers are fine. You could . . ." Stork stammered, flinching when Aerrow moved toward him.

Piper gathered up Junko and Radarr and headed toward the crew living quarters to unwind from the attack. "Forget it, Stork. It's not that important."

"But . . .."

"I said," Aerrow's voice was flat and emotionless, "the Rex Guardians will deal with it." He scowled and Stork cringed. The Merb was vibrating so badly that Aerrow felt he would shake himself apart. The Storm Hawks leader hesitated, warring within himself, and then stepped forward and grasped Stork's shoulders. "Stork . . ."

Recoiling at his leader's touch, Stork dragged in a ragged breath. A cold lump formed in the pit of his stomach. Even through his growing panic he could tell Aerrow wasn't acting like himself . . . neither was the rest of the squadron, for that matter. Finn always joked around, but he wasn't mean about it. And since when had Piper or even Junko ever ignored a distress signal? But then again, what had he expected? The flesh-burrowing-delirium-beetles were known to inhabit Terra Tropica, the last place they had landed. None of his companions seemed quite in proper form. The green-skinned helmsman cast a sidelong glance at Finn still recovering from the lightning shock. The high voltage jolt should have cleared the wingman from any infestation, but with Finn, it was hard to tell if the symptoms were abating or not. The sharpshooter acted erratically at the best of times. Stork drew his eyes back to his irate leader, an idea forming in the back of his mind.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Stork lied, and pulled away from Aerrow's grasp. "I'm almost done here. Just," the Merb shakily popped another panel open and tore a handful of half-melted wires from the casing, "hold these for me while I reroute the connection." He waited until Aerrow took the wires, then flipped the breaker toggle back on.

"Aah!" Aerrow's eyes popped wide and his spiky red hair stood on end as the voltage from the Condor's console coursed through his frame. Stork waited a moment, then cut the power.

"_Stork_!" Smoking slightly, the squadron leader turned to glare murderously at the helmsman. "What in the . . ?"

"Heh, heh . . .. Hm, I guess it wasn't flesh-borers after all." Flinching from the red-hot anger sparking in Aerrow's eyes, Stork took the mass of wires back and deftly rerouted the connection. He had rather hoped the electrical jolt would fry any beetle eggs or larvae nesting on his leader. With any luck, Aerrow would forgive the attack. "I'd better go check if the fire in the engine room is out yet." Without waiting for a reply, Stork scrambled off the bridge.

Once in the corridors, Stork slowed his pace, willing his breathing to slow. He could still hear the storm raging outside. Thunder reverberated through the ship, gently rocking it as it hung from its moorings. A sharp _bang_ jolted the carrier whenever the wind pushed the ship too hard and the _Condor_ hit the side of the cliff to which they were anchored.

"It can't be delirium-beetles . . . what now?" Shoulders hunched, Stork paused outside the engine room. He hoped to find whatever was wrong with his teammates. Later. After at least assessing the damage to the engine's crystalline drive. The hexagonal door swished open and Stork gingerly stepped into the blackened room.

"Well, the good news is the fire is out," he grimly muttered to himself. He _had_ redesigned the engine bay to contain as few flammables as possible. "The _bad_ news . . ." Stork carefully examined the still-sparking crystals set into the drive train. At least half of them would need to be replaced. The helmsman pulled the damaged crystals from the control unit and, loosening the soot, reworked the connections. He replaced the converter interface and, tightening the screws, set the array back in place. It would at least run at half power until they acquired new engine crystals.

"Hey, Stork! Chow-time! and don't worry, it's not Junko's turn to cook tonight." Favoring the pilot with an inscrutable look, Finn sauntered into the engine bay. It was almost as if he was wondering what the pilot was doing here. "Unless you'd like more alone-time with the _Condor_, dude!"

"Um, no, don't wait for me," Stork jittered, hunching his shoulders, "I just need to get this done." Whatever was infecting his teammates, Stork didn't want to be exposed to it any more than necessary.

Finn turned a critical eye on the helmsman. Stork was shaking harder than usual. No wonder the pilot was so thin - his tightly-wired frame was likely a product of his perpetual anxiety - and his tendency to skip meals. "Whatever, dude."

Stork watched the blonde-haired sharpshooter leave, then carefully stepped into the corridor. "Spiky-blue-nosed-psycho-fish? Mind-canker-thread-spiders?" Over the protests of his grumbling stomach, the pilot slowly walked back to his room and gratefully stepped over the threshold. Holding his head, he groaned and sank onto the edge of his bed. At least with the _Condor_, he knew how to effect repairs. His teammates were another issue altogether.

"What the . . ?" Stork looked closer at the floor. A minute amount of sand dusted the grey metal flooring. Abruptly standing, Stork briskly walked to the wall and, on a hunch, unscrewed the round vent cover. Lifting the dark purple grate from the wall, he peered inside.

"Ah ha! Dust from the spent casings of venomous-side-winding-chitinous-razor-leeches!" Intrigued, Stork's shaking stopped. He always _had_ harbored a fondness for dangerous pets. Not only did he get pleasant shivers just by being in the same room with them, but it was somehow comforting that there was at least one thing that could viciously kill him over which he had complete control. Reaching in, the Merb gathered a sample of the sand, took it over to his workbench and set it under the heavy analyzer scope.

"Hm." Stork twisted the large knob on the side and peered into the viewport again. The dust sample was not - as he had first assumed - organic in nature, nor was it normal dust or stone. It was crystalline. "Not raw crystal. Definitely not an engine crystal . . .." Stork looked closer. The form didn't even match the crystals the Talons typically used in their attacks. He was no expert, but the sand beneath his microscope definitely had a different color and crystalline structure.

This was Piper's specialty. Stork glanced up at the chronometer and realized the crystal specialist would not thank him for disturbing her so late in the evening – even if he had cooked her breakfast that morning. He slowly screwed the vent cover back in place. Suddenly, he was exhausted. Battling the Talons hadn't really been wearing, but the blustering storm outside was. Not to mention the effort it took to deal with his companions. Being a nervous wreck always wiped him out. Stork hesitated. He was hungry as well as tired, but in the end, exhaustion won.

Walking slowly back to his bed, Stork frowned, the inconsistencies to the puzzle reeling through his mind. He shrugged off his shirt, tossing it at the foot of his bed and picked up his trance helmet. After checking the cycle settings, Stork moved to put it on, but paused. Holding it in one hand, he stepped to his door and, taking a quick look around to ensure that he truly was alone, locked it before returning to his bed. Satisfied, the pilot slipped on the trance helmet. He activated the cycle and fell into oblivion.

* * *

><p>Groaning, Stork woke earlier than usual to a persistent beeping. The pilot pulled off his trance helmet and checked the dial. He clicked off its warning alarm and set it on his nightstand. When wiring the helmet, he had linked its antenna directly into the <em>Condor's<em> sensor array. It was set to automatically deactivate Stork's trance cycle whenever any alarms or warnings on the ship were tripped. Reflexively checking on his caustic-waxwing-puffball, Stork nervously arose and grabbed his shirt. Slipping it over his head, the carrier pilot unlocked his door and headed to the command deck.

The bridge was quiet when he arrived, the sky outside still blustery and wet, only now starting to lighten. A single caution light flashed on the control panel - a warning that one of the carrier ship's grapple moorings had worked itself loose in the storm.

"It's alright, baby, I'm here." Stork retracted the grappling hook and reset it in the stone above them. The warning light clicked off. Sighing, the helmsman considered returning to his bed, but decided against it. There was, at most, an hour left before full sunrise anyway, and by then the rest of the squad should be up.

At the thought of his teammates, Stork's mouth pulled into a thoughtful frown. Something was definitely wrong with the rest of the Storm Hawks. He just didn't know what. None of his theories - insect infection or accidental crystalline exposure - quite fit. With a determined nod, he decided to check up on them.

Creeping down the darkened corridors, Stork passed the kitchen and headed directly to Aerrow's room. He silently clicked his leader's door open and stepped inside. His eyes slid over the collection of photos tacked to the Sky Knight's wall, lingering slightly on the wanted poster of the Storm Hawks – a souvenir of the time the squadron was framed for crimes they didn't commit. Sighing, Stork dropped his gaze to his leader. Thrashing in his bed, Aerrow muttered in his sleep, obviously caught in the throes of a nightmare. His bare chest glistened with sweat. Even Radarr, twitching as he slumbered, was tangled in the boy's hair, as if he had been trying to burrow away from a bad dream. Stork grimly studied the pair a moment, and then stepped back into the hallway.

Junko's room was next. The Wallop was curled into a ball, his pajamas twisted around him and nightcap askew. He clutched his teddybear, sucking his thumb. The knucklebusters on his hands were glowing. The cracks on the Wallop's bunk belied the fact that he was not sleeping peacefully as well.

A sickening dread rising in the pit of his stomach, Stork hastily stepped into Finn's room. In his anxiety, the Merb accidentally bumped into the sharpshooter's stacked music collection. Horrified, Stork watched in terror as the entire heap cascaded to the floor with a reverberating crash. Clamping his hands over his mouth, Stork let out a strangled squeak, his mind racing to come up with a suitable excuse to what he was doing there before sunrise.

"Huh?" Stork lowered his arms. Despite the echoing clatter, the Stork Hawks' wingman hadn't even twitched. Finn still lay prone, sweating under what only his mind could see.

Panic constricting his throat, Stork backed out of Finn's room and turned toward Piper's. The crystal specialist was also caught in a dream, her fists clenched and teeth gritted.

"Not good. Not good. _Ship-wide_ parasomnia?" Stork muttered morbidly. With all the potentially fatal activities the Storm Hawks engaged in, he had never before wondered at the odds of them dying in their sleep. His mind drifted back to the "headache" conversation Aerrow and Finn were having at breakfast yesterday. "And here we have the heart of the matter." The rest of the Storm Hawks obviously were caught under an inimical influence. The culprit likely was the mysterious crystal dust he had been seeing on the ship. He was determined to figure it out.

Struggling to control his trembling knees, Stork quietly stepped over to Piper's side. He gave her a tentative poke then quickly recoiled. Nothing. He then gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder, and gave her a strong shake. No response. Anxiously, he reached over her sleeping form to grab a thick tome from the bookshelf above her bed. Ever since Master Cyclonis had masqueraded as fellow crystal enthusiast Lark, to befriend her, Piper had been diligent in seeking out crystal knowledge to aid the Storm Hawks. The Merb silently slipped the book open, determined to match the symptoms he was seeing in his companions. For a moment he was tempted to simply steal the book, but Piper would surely notice it missing.

"Hmm . . . natural crystal phenomenon, crystalline hazards and formations . . ." Frustrated, Stork flipped back to the index. _Unstable Crystals_ and _Explosive Crystals_ were interesting chapters, and _Crystals and the Psyche_ was equally fascinating, but contained nothing really useful. Stork had just started on _Crystalline Toxins_ when . . .

"Stork?" Piper's soft query held a note of surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Startled, the Merb jumped, pressing his back against the large crystal shielder in the specialist's room. "I, um . . ." Stork held up the book in front of him like a shield, trembling. His words tumbled out in a rush. "I-just-wanted-to-borrow-this-if-you-don't-mind-I'm-sorry-for-intruding-I-should-have-waited-until-you-were-awake-Piper."

"Whoa, slow down." Piper stood, smoothing her pajamas and wrapping her multicolored patched quilt around her shoulders. She smothered a yawn with one hand. "It's okay." The dark-skinned girl stepped over to peer at the book clutched in his hands. "I probably should thank you, I had the weirdest dream . . ." Piper shook her head, and mischievously looked up the the helmsman. Her eyes glinted darkly. "You want to help me experiment with some of these crystals?"

"Uh, no," Stork stammered, "I really just wanted to know if crystal dust can have any adverse side effects. Contamination. You know, nightmares, crankiness, agonizing death . . .."

"Oh Stork, is this about the engine crystal?" Piper moved closer to the Merb and placed a light hand on his chest. "You shouldn't worry about it fracturing like that. There might be some residue in the engine room for a while, but crystals typically lose all effect when they're broken. Don't be such a gleep."

"Um, right." Trembling, Stork chuckled nervously and slipped her hand off his chest. If Piper wanted to believe he was in her room simply because he was _paranoid_, then all the better. While he was tempted to tell her of his suspicions about the crystal dust affecting the team, her odd behavior made him hesitant to bring it up. He decided to risk it anyway. "But still . . ."

"Oh, go ahead and take the book, Stork, if it will make you feel better," Piper suddenly snapped, abruptly out of patience. Her normally honey-gold eyes had deepened to a dark crimson. "If it'll muzzle your nerves, it'll at least make _me_ feel better."

Cringing, Stork managed a strangled thanks and backed out into the hallway, clutching the book to his chest. He bumped into someone and yelped, whipping around.

"Take it easy, Stork," Aerrow took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. The Storm Hawks leader was now up and dressed, Radarr perched once more on his shoulder. Both sported a marked red cast to their eyes - definitely not caused by poor sleep. "Everything okay, buddy?"

"Um, yes, okay," Stork stammered disjointedly. "Heh, never better. Hehe." He turned to retreat to his room, but Aerrow gestured instead for his pilot to follow him.

"Get set to launch. Set course for Terra Bluster. We're going to call a little meeting."

Stork stopped dead in the middle of the corridor. _Why_ in the atmos were they heading to the terra ruled by Ravess? "Um, Aerrow, are you feeling alright?"

"Stork, I've put a lot of thought into this. By ending the war through negotiation, we will be saving countless lives." Aerrow turned his crimson gaze to the helmsman. "Surely you can appreciate that."

Stork didn't follow the Stork Hawk leader's logic. "Lives at the price of Cyclonian enslavement are not worth living." Seeing Aerrow staring at him, the Merb quickly added, "Besides the _Condor's_ impeller is completely shot. The main engines are only at half power. In this weather . . ."

"Then we travel at half power," Aerrow growled. "That's an order."

Ears drooping, Stork nodded meekly. "I just need to drop this off in my room." He brandished Piper's crystal book, relaxing when Aerrow nodded sharply. "I'll be right there." Quickly ducking into his room, Stork tossed the book on his bed. He peered out the doorframe to watch Aerrow's retreating back, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"When did Aerrow develop such a death wish?" The carrier pilot didn't know what was wrong with his companions, but he knew he couldn't allow them to fly into the heart of Cyclonian territory. Thinking quickly, Stork stepped back out the door and surreptitiously dashed from the room. He crept down to a certain point in the corridor. Brandishing a sonic screwdriver, he removed a little-known panel from the wall. He reached in, carefully selected several thick cables and deliberately jiggled them loose from their connections. Once finished, he meticulously fitted the panel back into the wall and screwed it back in place. Apologetically, he patted the _Condor's_ steel walls. "Sorry, baby."

Finished with the sabotage, the Merb pilot gathered his flagging courage and headed to the command deck.

"Stork." Aerrow turned to watch his pilot enter the bridge. "Release the grapple moorings and set course for Terra Bluster." The Storm Hawk leader moved to stand by the Merb at the helm.

"I can't believe we've gotta fly in this storm. And before breakfast too!" Finn complained, crimson eyes flashing in annoyance, and leaned against the central tactical table. Though his words were typical of the marksman, the rancor with which they were spoken were not. "That is so totally not fair, dude!"

"We will eat as soon as we get there," Aerrow replied with an amused smirk.

"Don't count on it," Stork muttered darkly beneath his breath. He scanned the topography of the terra they were moored to, checking the slope of the ground beneath them. A small peak jutted out underneath them, stretching a short ways before dropping to the wastelands. Not perfect, but it would do.

"Stork, release the grapples and take her up."

Stork stole a surreptitious glance over at his leader. Radarr still clung to the Storm Hawk's shoulders, his beady red eyes summoning the hideous image of a poisonous bark-snark to Stork's mind. Shaking away the unpleasant comparison, Stork nervously gritted his teeth and clutched the helm. He hit the button to release the moorings and pulled the throttle, already knowing the ship's engines wouldn't respond. The _Condor's_ crystalline engine sputtered once, then died.

"What happened?" Aerrow yelled as the carrier ship plummeted. The _Condor_ plunged down the ridge, bouncing off a particularly large boulder and sliding down the short decline, finally skidding to a stop with a earsplitting screech.

Shaking with fright even though he had already calculated the ship's descent pattern, Stork sucked in a shuddering breath. He quickly redeployed the grapples, catching the carrier ship before it teetered off the edge of the terra. "Um, I don't think the engines are working."

"You think?" Finn squirmed out from beneath Junko and turned to give Piper a hand up. All of the Storm Hawks were glaring at the green-skinned carrier pilot.

"Fix. It." The Storm Hawk leader growled. Stalking over to his helmsman, Aerrow grabbed Stork by the front of his uniform. "Now!" He roughly shoved the Merb away with a snarl.

"Okay-okay-okay . . ." Stork tremulously pushed himself away from the _Condor's_ navigation globe, an icy fear walking up his spine. "I can do that." Left eye twitching, the pilot knelt in front of the control array and shakily popped the panel open. He knew the problem wasn't here, but certainly didn't want his apparently-deranged leader and teammates to know that. He looked at the gauges. The crystalline pressure converter was minutely out of alignment. Producing a wrench, he readjusted the connection and calibrated the meter.

"Well? How long are we stuck here?" Aerrow's crimson eyes narrowed and he moved to look over Stork's shoulder.

Stork cringed, sweat beading on his forehead. He managed what he hoped was a casual shrug. "Don't know. The problem's not here." Stork flinched away from Aerrow's baleful glare. His breathing quickened and he dragged in a ragged gasp. "I fixed the pressure converter."

Breathing out an annoyed sigh, Aerrow placed a heavy hand on his helmsman's shoulder. "Not good enough, Stork. I need the engines back online."

His shoulders spasming, Stork tried to ignore his leader's grip. Aerrow could likely feel the muscles shudder beneath his fingers. The pilot slipped the control panel back closed and climbed to his feet. "I . . . I'd better check the engine room." He scampered off the command deck. In the edge of his vision, he saw Aerrow watch him a moment, then move to follow him out to the corridor. A searing dread clenched his throat. Unpleasant memories bubbled to the surface of his mind and Stork quickened his pace. Aerrow was still following him. He felt as if he was trapped in a nightmare - one of those where it is impossible to run, even when the hunter is not far behind.

His breath labored and harsh, Stork skittered into the engine bay and moved tensely over to the crystalline engine drive. Behind him, Aerrow stepped into the room. Ignoring his leader, Stork carefully checked each remaining crystal, even though he knew he would find no problems, then meticulously traced all the connections.

"I thought you fixed the array yesterday." Aerrow stepped up behind the Merb and impatiently interrupted his work. "What happened?"

Startled, Stork whipped around and ran right into the Sky Knight. "I – I don't know," Stork stammered, quickly backpedalling. "I need to run more diagnostics . . ."

"It seems like you already at least have a hunch what the problem is. You're awfully jumpy." Aerrow grabbed the carrier pilot's upper arm to prevent him from backing away. "Stork, we need to talk. Are you having a problem?"

"Heh. _Jumpy_?" Struggling to breathe normally, Stork gasped for air, his pulse pounding a staccato in his veins. "Of _course,_ I'm jumpy! The storm outside is mutating into a massive, swirling tempest of doom, and the _Condor_ is literally falling apart at the seams! We're a hair's breadth away from teetering off into a tortuous death in the wastelands! Of course I'm having a problem!" The melodrama was not real, but Stork's panic was. He just hoped Aerrow wouldn't suspect him of sabotaging the _Condor_. He dragged in a ragged gasp. "I just need more time."

Aerrow favored the Merb with a baleful glare. His jaw tightened and he nodded brusquely, finally releasing the helmsman's arm. "Then you had better work faster," he snarled. Aerrow's crimson eyes narrowed. "I want to be ready to fly out by morning."

"I'm. doing. the. best. I. can." Stork panted, each word punctuated with gasping wheezes. Trembling, his eyes darted about the engine bay. "The. problem. must. be. elsewhere." Dread rising in his gut, Stork sank to the floor in front of the engine array, shaking badly. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, wheezing and gasping for breath.

"A fine time for a panic attack." Aerrow snarled in displeasure, raising his hand. He hesitated, resisting the impulse to smack the carrier pilot, and instead put his fingers to his brow. In his head, he knew he shouldn't push the helmsman and force him, exacerbating his panic; but in his heart, he just couldn't care. Impatiently, he crouched down in front of the Merb and forced the pilot to meet his eyes. "Get the ship running." Aerrow grabbed Stork's arms and yanked him to his feet. "_Now_."

Cowering, Stork forced his ragged breathing to slow. He turned away from his leader, hiding behind the black curtain of his hair. "I'm. on. it." He forced out the words and scampered out of the engine bay.

Once in the hallway, Stork slowed his pace, clutching at the wall for support. He couldn't think straight; he needed to go somewhere quiet. Shaking so hard he felt he would collapse, Stork passed the kitchen, then stopped. Tremulously, he turned back to stare at the crayon caricature stuck on the battered refrigerator with growing horror. Dark Ace's crimson eyes malevolently stared back.

"Just like Aerrow's eyes." The shock of the realization jolted Stork from his panic. The changes he was seeing in his teammates were just the beginning. The nightmares. The personality shifts. The anger. He knew now that this was no accident.

They were under Cyclonian attack.

* * *

><p>AN - Please drop me a review and share your thoughts.

I appreciate comments, questions and critique!


	4. Chapter 4

Storm Hawks:

"**Something Like That**"

(This story takes place after episode (34 – 208) "Second Chances"

and before episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor")

**Rated T for some violence.**

**Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.**

**Stork's teammates are acting strange. Paranoia to the rescue! Stork centric, but all Storm Hawks involved.**

* * *

><p>"Not hypnocrystals," Stork murmured, flipping through the pages of Piper's crystal manual, "and not dreamstones." Frustrated, the Merb slammed the book closed. He had spent the remainder of the day locked in his room, hiding from his companions and pouring over the reference book. The <em>Unique and Rare Crystals<em> section looked promising, but was so massive that it would take a very long time to scan through them all. So far, none of the entries quite matched his teammates' symptoms. He was sure the crystalline dust he was finding throughout the ship was the vector . . . but what was the _form_?

Disheartened, Stork dropped the book back on his shelf. His eye fell on the heavy analyzer scope sitting on his workbench, the crystalline dust still under the lens. A sudden thought occurred to him. "One moment. Crystals _typically_ loose their unique properties when broken." Excited, Stork plucked the book back up. "Which means there must be some that don't." He flipped to the index in the back of the book, running his finger down the list of topics. "Ah hah! _Broken and Damaged Crystals_ . . ."

_With few exceptions, crystals exhibit very intricate structures and will easily shatter. Energy stones, such as fuel crystals, leech crystals and oblivion stones will violently release stored energy upon rupturing, while less volatile crystals simply cease to function. Those crystals which affect the environment may still continue to function, but in a drastically reduced capacity, in most cases being so diminished as to be indistinguishable from completely defunct stones, except where very large quantities are present. Such broken stones are often the cause of unnatural weather phenomenon._

_ A rare subclass of crystals does, however, exist. These, when broken, do not see a reduction in power, but an exponential increase of strength. Those crystals which fall under this classification include - but are not limited to - solaris and lunar crystals, the entire subclass of minor psychotomimetic crystals, converter stones and lathestones._

"That's it!" Excited, Stork stuffed a small wire stripper between the pages to bookmark the spot and flipped back to the rare crystals section. "Here it is."

_Psychotropic Crystals, Unique and Rare. Lathestones._

_ Lathestones, thought to only form in the crucible mesa of the wastelands, are a unique variation of dreamcrystals. Once used as an acceptable method of reforming otherwise incurable criminals, lathestones affect the very structure of the mind. Much like its cousin, the dreamcrystal, a lathestone can be tuned by its user to form a unique reality. Once thus tuned, those who fall within it's effect are drawn into the lathe's reality whenever dreaming. Unlike the dreamcrystal, however, over time the lathestone's effect results in permanent behavior modification. This modification has shown to be irreversible, the only instances it has proved to fail are on those particularly able to successfully resist the stone's unique reality after falling under its influence. Successful behavior modification is indicated by a darkening of the subject's iris, turning the surrounding tissue a deep red. Success rates remain high enough that the stone was successfully used in criminal reformation until its use was later declared unethical. Presently, no known true lathestones are thought to exist._

A sick, cold lump settled into the pit of Stork's stomach. A lathestone. Shattered and probably mixed in with a quantity of crushed gale crystal to improve circulation through the _Condor's_ ventilation system. This time, Master Cyclonis wasn't out to kill the Storm Hawks. Her goal was to thrust them into a nightmare, holding them there until the differences echoed into the real world. She wanted to _change_ them, to force them into becoming her servants, just like her grandmother must have done to Dark Ace.

Feeling his pulse quicken, Stork put a trembling hand to his temple. Subtly, Master Cyclonis had already ensnared the entire squadron - except him. And only because he suffered from night terrors so crippling that he had to use a trance helmet to block the dreams. And what of Dark Ace - did he know what she and her grandmother had done to him? It probably wouldn't make a difference now even if he did. The crystal had made him loyal, had made him hers.

Stork let the book slip from his fingers, eyes twitching in horror.

"We're doomed."

* * *

><p>Aerrow knocked once on the Merb pilot's door and stepped in, squarely smacking into the coppery metal portal when it failed to automatically slide open. Irritably rubbing his chin, Aerrow realized the pilot must have locked it. He banged harder on the door. "Stork!"<p>

"Ah, Aerrow." The door swished open. "I thought you would be asleep by now." Stork stood blocking the doorway. His workbench was cluttered with pieces and parts and a couple sheets of paper were clenched in his fist. Guiltily, he hid them behind his back. He nervously shifted his weight.

"I haven't seen you around the ship at all today." The statement was accusatory. Aggravated, the squadron leader shouldered past the helmsman and stepped into the room. "And the _Condor_ is no closer to being sky-worthy than it was this morning." Aerrow scowled at the papers held trembling behind Stork's back. He ducked to the left and attempted to snag them.

Jittering out of the way, Stork backed toward his bookshelf. "I've been working on it. I've checked the output voltage from the velocity array and traced the converter lines to the helm. The current spikes sharply midship and declines from there." Seeing Aerrow's skeptical look, he hastily clarified, "I've almost located the problem area." Stork pressed his back against his terrarium and surreptitiously switched the document to his other hand. Of the two entities in the room with him, the caustic-waxwing-puffball behind and the deranged Sky Knight in front, Stork was hard pressed to say which was the most deadly.

"Uh huh." Aerrow dodged again, attempting to snag the papers. He scowled at the Merb carrier pilot.

Chuckling nervously, Stork forced a weak smile on his face. He jumped when the Storm Hawk leader roughly grabbed his arm and pried the papers from his fingers. "Just my notes on fixing the _Condor_!" or at least on fixing her crew, Stork silently amended.

Aerrow raised his eyebrows at the illegible scrawl covering the papers, then hesitantly nodded and handed them back. "Just make sure we're ready to fly out first thing tomorrow morning," he growled, "even if you have to stay up all night to do it."

"Will do." Shakily, Stork watched as the Sky Knight favored him with a final stare before turning and stalking back over the threshold. The thick metal door clicked closed behind him and Stork let out a sigh of relief. He glanced down at the papers he held in his hands, then over to his workbench. Tomorrow morning, Aerrow would force him to fly into their enemies' arms.

They were out of time.

Dashing to the door, he hit the lock, then darted to his workbench where his disassembled trance helmet lay in pieces. The helmet was shielding him not only from being controlled by the lathe crystal, but from entering the Cyclonian dreamworld altogether. By stripping out only the dream-blocker and modifying the rest, he hoped to be able to enter the nightmare and wake his teammates from inside the dream. Once they were freed, it was simply a matter of clearing out the lathestone from the _Condor_.

"Or, more likely, get trapped in a horrific mind-destroying abyss, spiraling down into perpetual dementia and enslaving insanity." Stork consulted his scrawled notes, then plucked a pair of needle-nose pliers from the table and carefully clicked together the final connections. He held up the completed trance shield. It was a lot smaller now. He briefly wondered how he was going to assure he didn't drop it while sleeping. Plucking a wire from the workbench, he formed it into a loop and securely clipped it to his wide, triple belt. It really was too bad he was only able to make the one shield. He simply didn't have the parts to make enough for his companions, nor did he have the time to search for them - even if the _Condor's_ impeller had been functioning. The helmsman briefly entertained the thought of taking his buggy and flying out to locate the necessary parts, but he feared the Storm Hawks would either fix the _Condor_ and leave without him, or fly the remaining skimmers ahead to Terra Bluster. Or, more likely, use them to hunt him down.

"Now the only trick is to enter a demented Cyclonian nightmare world, find the others before they end up permanently damaged, wake them up, and make it out in one piece," he muttered darkly. "No problem. Aah, who am I kidding, this is going to be a nightmare!" At least by entering someone else's nightmare, he should not be plagued by his own.

Steeling himself, Stork slipped his shirt off and lay down. Listening to the rain still lashing against the _Condor's_ hull, he double-checked the trance shield at his waist. Satisfied, he activated it and fell into the dream.

* * *

><p>Stork opened his eyes and sat up. He was still in his bunk in his room. "No, no, no . . ." <em>Could<em> he have tranced through the night again? His modifications to his trance shield should have prevented that. Groaning, the Merb pilot swung his feet to the floor and automatically checked on his deadly pet. It was no longer there.

"Aaaagh!" Stork drew in all his limbs and huddled in a mass in the center of his bed. His eyes darted around the room, seeking the caustic puffball. "I knew I should have replaced that bolster stone!" After his first venomous pet escaped, his teammates had insisted that he use heavy metal for his pets' shelf as well as for the door and vent covers. Any escaping pet would would thus be confined to his room and not out poisoning everyone in their sleep.

In their sleep?

The panicky Merb slowly uncoiled.

"Huh?" Ears perking, Stork quickly scanned the room. Not only was his caustic-waxwing-puffball missing, but his entire terrarium, workbench, his collection of thickly-bound books, and his shirt had vanished as well. With a start, he realized that he had been mistaken in thinking that he had tranced through the night. "So this must be the lathe-induced nightmare." Stork rose and silently padded to the door. "Somehow, I had envisioned something more . . . terrifying."

Quietly stepping over the threshold, Stork gingerly stepped down the silent hallway and peered in his teammates' rooms. The ship was more than empty - it was completely bare. Shivering, Stork crossed his arms, rubbing warmth back into them. It was also cold. If he had realized that he would enter the dreamworld dressed as he was in real life, he would have gone to sleep fully clothed. He moved farther in, his footsteps echoing eerily through the barren ship. "It's as if whoever designed it patterned it merely from a set of blueprints and old memories - not from having been on the _Condor_ recently." Which, he realized, was probably the case.

Shaking with nervous tension, Stork crept down the empty corridor, shoulders hunched and one arm drawn up to his chest. Even though this _Condor_ looked in every way like his own, he could tell this was not his beloved ship. He ran a finger along a cold steel panel. "Oh, baby, I sure miss you."

Stork paused onside a small viewport and peered outside. The sky was black, thick clouds swirling through the gloom. Offhandedly, he wondered if that meant the storm had passed. "More likely, it simply means the dream doesn't exist beyond the cloudline." The thought was unnerving. Uneasily, he turned away from the window. As he neared the command deck, Stork slowed. The low buzz of voices leaked from the bridge. While he could not decipher the words, the voices _did_ sound like his companions. Cautiously, he opened the heavy hexagonal door and stepped onto the bridge.

". . . solute Zeros pilot Ice Grinders, so even though they're heavily armored and difficult to damage, they don't function well in high heat." Aerrow stepped toward the central tactical table and sharply tapped the map spread out there. "That's where your firebolt crystals come in, Piper."

_Why_ was Aerrow planning a surprise attack on the Sky Knights of Terra Blizzaris? Holding his breath, Stork cautiously walked to stand by the Storm Hawk's leader. Aerrow didn't seem to notice him, instead continuing to lay out the latest plan in their systematic streak designed to wipe out Atmos' Sky Knight squadrons.

Worried, Stork reached out a trembling hand and waved it in front of Aerrow's face. When the Sky Knight didn't respond, he crossed his arms over his chest and thoughtfully pursed his lips. He suppressed a grim smile. It was a little odd seeing his teammates prepare for a mission in their nightclothes. Piper and Junko were in their pajamas and Aerrow, like himself, was bare-chested. Stork chuckled. Finn wore nothing but his boxers. Ironically, only Radarr - who sported a thick fur coat anyway - appeared to be properly dressed. "This would be amusing if we weren't all about to suffer an appalling fate worse than death."

"Stork!" Evidently startled by his voice, Aerrow looked up, his crimson eyes finally registering the pilot's presence. The Sky Knight paused a moment, almost as if compensating for Stork's sudden appearance in the dream, then resumed speaking. "Just in time. You'll keep the _Condor_ hidden in cloud cover here," he tapped the map again, "and take out any who try to escape the back way. Questions?" When no one replied, he grinned evilly. "It's go time!"

Wincing at the battle lust clouding his leader's voice, Stork cringed as his teammates jumped to attention. This reality - his squadron an elite Cyclonian cloak-and-dagger unit - was horrifying. _This_ was what was being created with the lathe crystal? He couldn't let that happen.

"Piper, get our weapons outfitted. Junko, Finn, help her. Radarr, check the com frequencies. Make sure no one knows we're coming." Aerrow turned to address Stork with a malicious smirk. "Take us to the strike drop-point, then prepare for the fun-n-games!"

"Yes, sir" Jumping up, Piper grabbed her bag of firebolt crystals and set to work.

"Okay!" "On it, dude!" Finn and Junko headed over to Piper.

Chirping, Radarr saluted and scampered to sit on the console.

"No." Stork's low voice cut through the commotion. Refusing to take the helm, the carrier pilot stubbornly crossed his arms. His left eye twitched. A stunned silence greeted him.

"_What_ did you say?" Aerrow snarled and stalked across the command deck to confront the rebellious Merb. His dark red eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Um . . . no?" Even though he knew Aerrow was not in his right mind, Stork struggled with directly disobeying the order. He uncrossed his arms and nervously retreated a step. "Just think about it," Stork disputed, "_why_ would _we_ be helping the Cyclonians?"

Scrambling back to Aerrow's shoulder, Radarr growled.

"This is all a dream! Master-Cyclonis-is-using-a-lathe-crystal-to-thrust-us-into-her-dreamworld-so-she-can-turn-us-all-into-her-loyal-slaves-you-need-to-resist-the-stone's-effect-and-wake-up-before-we-all-end-up-like-Dark-Ace!" Stork retreated again, letting out a startled squeak when his back bumped against the bridge railing. "Please, Aerrow!"

"I'm sorry, buddy, you're not making sense." Aerrow folded his arms over his bare chest. He didn't look convinced.

Stork gulped in a shaky breath and turned to directly address Radarr. "Don't you remember breaking out of Terra Zartacla with Aerrow so we could rescue the other prisoners? _Why_ would _we_ do that if we worked for Cyclonis?"

The small lemur-like creature cocked his head, listening, then pantomimed flying a skyride. With a cheep, he leaped from Aerrow's shoulder and scampered up to sit on the helm. He chittered again, shaking a small fist at the Sky Knight, his beady crimson eyes fading once more to their normal dark brown. With a final chirp he faded from the dream.

"_Yes_!" Pleased, Stork pumped his arm in victory. The disappearance of Radarr could only mean he had been successful in freeing the furry creature from the lathe crystal's hold. Determined to disenthrall the remainder of his companions, he turned toward Aerrow. The Storm Hawks leader was not moving, frozen in mid-step. Shuddering, Stork turned an anxious eye to the others - they too were still as if carved from glass.

"Ah, Stork of the Storm Hawks," a silken, even voice sliced through the sudden stillness, "I had wondered why you weren't in my dreams."

Yelping, Stork whipped around, hiding behind his arms. Master Cyclonis stood behind the bridge's railing, a soft smile brushing her lips. She pushed away from the rail and stepped over to the helm, her deep burgundy cloak rustling softly against her ankles.

Terror squeezing his gut, Stork slowly backed away until his bare shoulders pressed against the large glass timepulse globe. "Cyclonis," he choked. He hadn't counted on actually having to face the sinister ruler of Cyclonia directly. She had him cornered, blocking him from the bridge's exit.

"I must admit, I _was_ beginning to get concerned," the dark empress twirled her spiked crystal staff once, tapping its flickering violet crystal sharply against the floor. "But you're here now. It's just too bad your paranoid babbling accidentally loosed the creature, Radarr, from my dream." She stepped in, close enough to touch him. Her lips curved into a frown. The Merb was somehow resisting her reality. "Let's just fix that, shall we?"

Stork cringed as Cyclonis brought her fingers to his face and lightly brushed them over his cheek. A deep violet sheath of energy crackled between her fingertips. Quivering, he sharply pulled away.

"_What_?" Shocked, the crystal mage dropped her hand and stepped away. "How do you resist? How can you be awake . . ?" She studied the helmsman with narrowed eyes. "You . . . you're _lucid dreaming_? An . . . unfortunate surprise."

A nervous chuckle escaped Stork's lips and he scooted behind the large timepulse globe, putting it between him and the megalomanic ruler. He had to agree - he hated surprises. They were never good. He drew in a trembling breath. "Release my friends, Cyclonis!" He sounded surer than he felt.

Master Cyclonis laughed incredulously. "And you think you're going to stop me?" She stepped around the timepulse globe. "And how . . .?" Her eyes slid over his chest and settled on the trance shield at his belt. "Ah, now I see. You think your little toy can protect you?" The dark empress reached to grab the device, but her fingers simply phased through it.

Smirking, Stork eased over to the control dash. "It would _seem_ that you can't manipulate your dreamworld as easily as you thought!" Even though he was nervous about facing her here, it came as a relief that she could not touch the real trance shield - as it was still on the real _Condor_. The one he wore here was merely a dream manifestation. Stork slid a hand over the console and pulled a nearby lever. Nothing happened. Of course. The traps he had installed in _his Condor_ would not exist here. He backed away, ears drooping.

"That may be so," Master Cyclonis' voice hardened, raising an eyebrow. "But I can certainly affect you." Her sanguine hood slowly uncurled, laying flat into a mane around her throat, and she sneered. She twirled her staff again, a blinding bolt of violet erupting from its tip to smash squarely into the Merb's chest.

Bashing into the _Condor's_ darkened windshield, Stork crumpled to the cold floor, groaning. He shuddered as the empress glided to stand over him. The pain was certainly real, even if the dream was not. Shakily, he forced himself to his feet.

"Yes, Storm Hawk, get up. Shield or no, you _will_ play my game." A cruel smirk twisted her lips and Master Cyclonis turned to motion towards the still-unmoving Aerrow. "And then you, too," she favored Stork with an eager look and vanished, "will be mine."

Trembling, Stork stared after her, jumping with a yelp as the Storm Hawks suddenly spun back to life.

Evidently unaware of the time lapse - as well as Radarr's absence - Aerrow scowled at his helmsman. "I'm sorry, buddy, you're not making sense." Aerrow folded his arms over his bare chest. He didn't look convinced. "I _said_, take us to the strike drop-point. _Now_."

Cringing before his leader's anger, Stork pointedly stepped away from the helm. "Sorry Aerrow, not when you're not you." Master Cyclonis might be smart, but she sure wasn't very original.

Crimson eyes flashing in anger, Aerrow raised a fist and backhanded him, sending the carrier pilot staggering backwards. "No more chances. Do as I say."

Stunned, Stork brought a trembling hand to his cheek, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Eyes wide, he scrambled backwards, recoiling as Aerrow advanced again.

"Take. The. Helm. _Now_." The Sky Knight snarled.

His reply stuck in his throat. Blanching, Stork shook his head frantically, struggling to subdue the fear threatening to strangle him. "Aerrow, don't you remember . . ."

"Too late." With a sneer, Aerrow hit him again and turned to address the others. "Piper, take the helm. Junko, throw this _dross_ into the brig."

Vibrating uncontrollably, Stork scrambled to get away, but the thickly-built Wallop grabbed him around the neck and hauled him out the door.

"J-Junko," Stork choked, eyes bugging and trying to pry the iron fingers from his throat, "_wait_! This is a nightmare! Why would you be a Talon?"

"I fight for peace in Atmos. We work _with_ the Cyclonians," Junko replied casually, straightening his nightcap as he dragged the Merb down the cold metal corridors. He rounded a bend and entered what looked like a ship's brig. "I've never been a Talon. You should know that."

"But you _were_ part of a Talon youth brigade, remember?" Stork rasped as the Wallop unlocked a cell door and roughly tossed him in. "You quit because you wanted to be one of the _good_ guys!" Stork coughed, then shakily pushed himself to his feet and rushed over to the bars to grasp the tail end of Junko's pajamas before the Wallop could leave. A portion of his mind puzzled over the brig. There was no such place on the _Condor_.

"Uh." Junko paused and turned to consider Stork's words. "That sounds familiar." The Wallop took off his nightcap and scratched his head. "You know, I think you're right. Boy, what a weird dream." The deep red faded from his eyes and Junko turned once more from the cell. "Oops, sorry about locking you up like that." He faded away.

Chuckling nervously, Stork grasped the cold metal bars. "Ah yeah. And now I'm condemned to a heinous and agonizing death rotting in an imaginary prison." He dropped his forehead against the bars. "Oh well, at least Junko and Radarr escaped. With luck, they'll wake us all from this nightmare before I go insane."

"Oh, I wouldn't count on it."

Whipping his head up at the words, Stork let out a strangled squeak and backpedaled from the iron bars. Master Cyclonis stood in the shadowed corner of the room. Stork was immediately grateful for the thick bars separating them.

Her hood down and cloak brushed back, the crystal mage glided up to the cell, a satisfied smirk twisting her lips. "Your two companions may have been freed from my nightmare, but rest assured, they are still asleep and dreaming - just not anywhere I can reach them. Yet." The dark empress lifted a hand, placing her fingers lightly on the bars. "I will ensure their loyalty once I have taken care of you." The cell bars flickered beneath her touch, guttering and vanishing as smoke.

Squawking in alarm, Stork stumbled backwards, his eyes wide with dread. They were no longer in the brig, but were now standing in the _Condor's_ engine bay. "Um, what just happened?" Backed into a corner, Stork cast about for an escape, twitching in terror.

"Oh, don't look so surprised," the Cyclonian empress laughed darkly. "This world I can manipulate at will." She placed a delicate finger beneath his chin. "It's only the _people_ who are tricky." She pressed harder, forcing his head to tilt back. "And only then for a little while." The crystal mage pressed her other palm to his bare chest, summoning an energy bolt and blasted him across the bay. "_That_ was for freeing the Wallop and your . . . pet."

"He prefers _mission specialist_." Moaning, Stork clutched at the _Condor's_ crystalline engine array and struggled to his feet. Head still spinning, he staggered against the main generator. "Radarr doesn't like being called a pet." He reached out to cut the carrier's power, but found himself sprawled gracelessly across the generator, teeth clenched against the sudden flash of pain when Master Cyclonis blasted him again. The raw power the crystal mage wielded downright scared the helmsman. He shakily pushed himself off the generator, collapsing to the ground when his knees gave out. "And what, precisely, was _that_ for?"

"Oh," the dark empress smiled, her deep indigo eyes flashing cruelly, "just because I enjoyed it." She smiled, watching the Merb's rising panic. The Storm Hawks' carrier pilot had always been easily intimidated, and was never one to fight back directly, even when threatened. It was no different in her dream - even more so here, where she could strip away his defenses. She forced the pilot to meet her gaze. "Give yourself to me, and the anxiety and pain will go away," she murmured sweetly, clearly enjoying his terror. "That's all."

"Never, _witch_!" Stork spat the word out, peering up at her through his curtain of black hair, determination etched onto his face. He pried an engine crystal from the velocity array and pitched it at her head.

"Ah, I thought as much," Master Cyclonis' raised one hand and the crystal turned to dust. Her lips curved into a sadistic smirk. "I am so enjoying this little game." She turned, beckoning Aerrow from the shadows of the room, and disappeared once more.

* * *

><p>AN - Please review and share your comments and questions!


	5. Chapter 5

Storm Hawks:

"**Something Like That**"

(This story takes place after episode (34 – 208) "Second Chances"

and before episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor")

**Rated T for some violence.**

**Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.**

**Stork's teammates are acting strange. Paranoia to the rescue! Stork centric, but all Storm Hawks involved.**

* * *

><p>"Finn, see if any of the skimmers are sky-worthy," Aerrow dashed into the engine room, and pulled Stork up from the floor. Beneath their feet, the <em>Condor<em> tilted alarmingly to the side. "Piper, see if you can get the fires out!" He dragged Stork through the sudden conflagration and shoved him out into the hallway. "The Rebel Ducks and Third Degree Burners are attacking - and the rest are on their way! Stork, evasive maneuvers! Get us out of here!"

Stork stumbled as a large hunk of metal piping tore away from the ceiling and fell with an echoing crash. A shrieking klaxon alarm blared over the intercom, drowning out cacophony of battle. The _Condor_ shuddered again, engines whining. Suddenly spasming, the carrier ship's nose dropped, careening down to the wastelands.

Struggling with the intense desire to save his beloved ship, Stork took a steadying breath, refusing to believe the phantasm. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to block out the chaos.

"_Stork_! Now!" Seeing the helmsman resist, Aerrow grabbed Stork and dragged him toward the command deck. "We're going down!"

Anxiously shaking Aerrow from his arm, Stork looked up as Finn rushed past. A small smile quirked his lips and he dashed after the sharpshooter. "Finn!" Stork shouted, lunging forward and grabbing the blonde-haired wingman before he could reach the launch deck. "Think about it!" Stork pointed down at Finn's flame-patterned boxers. "Only in a dream would you be fighting the entire Sky Knight battalion in your _underwear_!"

"Dude!" Stunned, Finn looked down at his boxers in surprise, his eyes suddenly snapping from deep crimson to bright blue. "How embarrassing!" The Storm Hawks' sharpshooter abruptly vanished from the dream.

"Heh. Too easy." Stork grinned and congratulated himself as the pandemonium aboard the _Condor_ evaporated just as abruptly. "Three points for me."

"Not for long." Master Cyclonis' silken voice took on an edge of anger. She emerged from the shadows in front of the Merb pilot and stalked over to him. She no longer held her crystal staff in her hands. "You _will_ pay for that!" she hissed, obviously incensed at the Merb's success in freeing another of his teammates.

"Um," Stork winced from the fury coloring her voice. He turned and sprinted down the corridor. "I'd rather not, thank you," he shouted over his shoulder. Master Cyclonis did _not_ look amused, and he was not going to hang around to see what she would do next.

"Not so fast, dear Storm Hawk," the dark empress suddenly appeared in front of him, the corridor abruptly disappearing. They were now in the hangar. The Cyclonian ruler was so close that Stork almost collided with her. He twisted away and headed toward the nearest ride - Aerrow's skimmer. An almost animalistic snarl escaped her lips. "I'm not done with you yet!" She raised her hands, pulling a pulsating globe of plasma from the air and hurtled it at him.

The flickering ball of energy hit him squarely between the shoulders, blasting him from his feet. He smashed into Aerrow's skimmer before bouncing to the floor. Shuddering in pain, Stork pushed himself to his knees. This attack was much stronger than the last one. Gasping for breath, he shook the vertigo from his mind.

"You okay there, buddy?" Aerrow leaned over the Merb pilot, extended a hand and hauled him to his feet. The squad leader's eyes glinted darkly. "We were worried about you for a moment there."

"Um," Stork let out a nervous chuckle, "I, uh . . ." Eye twitching, he sucked in a tremulous breath and looked around. Master Cyclonis was gone again. He now stood in one of the small storage bays Piper used for her more volatile crystal experiments. "Um, I suppose I haven't died . . . yet."

"Great." Aerrow clapped Stork on the back and turned back to his conversation with Piper. The two Storm Hawks were deeply engaged in talking about some crystal experiment of Piper's, ignoring Stork for the most part.

"And then, by combining them in stages, just like Lark said, they slowly fused!" Piper exclaimed excitedly, brandishing a newly-merged crystal for the others to see. "It really wasn't that hard! She's really teaching me control!"

So that's it. Shoulders shaking, Stork swallowed his apprehension and stepped forward. He turned to face Piper. Absurdly, she was still in her pajamas. "And you do remember, don't you, that Lark is Master Cyclonis?" he queried, a slight tremor creeping into his voice. His thoughts turned back to when the evil empress had disguised herself as a fellow crystal enthusiast to fool Piper and gain her trust. The whole fiasco had narrowly missed ending in complete disaster.

"Duh, Stork. Who else would know this much about crystals?" Piper rolled her eyes at the helmsman, their deep crimson glinting unnaturally. "You sure are master of the obvious."

"Then, _obviously_, you need to wake up," Stork persisted, trying to convince Piper to listen to reason. "If you would check the inconsistencies, you'd realize you're asleep and dreaming."

"Oh, don't be silly, Stork, you just fainted." Aerrow and Piper shared a chuckle at the helmsman's expense.

Exasperated, Stork sighed and rolled his eyes. He wondered what game Cyclonis was playing at this time. He watched his two teammates - still in their nightclothes and eagerly studying the newly-formed crystal - then turned and walked out the door. Logic wasn't working against Piper and Aerrow. He decided to make them come to him.

Stork stepped over the threshold and into the . . . auxiliary storage bay . . . again? Piper and Aerrow still stood before him, hunkered over Piper's equipment. Confused, he glanced over his shoulder. The room, too, extended behind him.

Suddenly weary, Stork put a hand to his forehead as if to ward off a sudden headache. If _that_ was the way Cyclonis was going to play it . . . Stork suddenly stepped forward and grabbed the specialist's arm. "Piper, wake _up_!" he growled darkly.

"Whoa, buddy." His voice suddenly flat and cold, Aerrow stepped forward and grabbed the pilot, pulling him away from Piper. "What's wrong with you?" Grasping him in a bear hug, Aerrow pinned his arms to his sides, holding him immobile.

"Wha . . . no!" Stork struggled against his leader, his heart painfully beating a sharp staccato in his chest. Aerrow thinking _he_ was the deranged one had _not_ been his intent.

"Piper, I think that Stork might be suffering under a Sky Knight's mind control." The Storm Hawks squadron leader shifted, tightening his grip on the helmsman. "Do you think you can break the enthrallment with a hypnocrystal?"

"I'll give it a try."

Stork struggled as Piper reached into her belt and produced a shimmering emerald crystal. Could she really hypnotize him into becoming Master Cyclonis' slave? In a dream, was that even _possible_? "Piper, don't you remember what happened when Carver suggested _Aerrow_ might be under mind control? It turned out _Carver_ faked the whole thing!" Stork pled desperately, squeezing his eyes closed. "The Piper I know would never fall for that twice!"

Looking at Stork as if seeing him for the first time, Piper slowly lowered her arm. The emerald crystal slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor. "Stork," she said slowly, "I'm sorry." The dark crimson cleared from her amber eyes, and she faded out.

Dropping to his knees as Aerrow's grip also suddenly disappeared, Stork dragged in a ragged breath. "Four down," he gasped, trembling, "one to go."

"Fool!" Livid, Master Cyclonis stalked to stand directly in front of the kneeling Merb. "Do you really think you can win? And what price will you pay to do so?"

Squawking in alarm, Stork leapt to his feet and scrambled from the room. No _way_ was he waiting to see her next move. He slapped the door activator, letting the portal slam closed behind him, and took off running.

"You can run, but you can't hide!" Master Cyclonis' sing-song voice mocked the panicked Merb and she suddenly appeared before him. They were now standing in the kitchen. She raised a hand, her fingers sparking violet, and fired another blast at him.

Stork swung the refrigerator door open to block the attack and scrambled out the door. He stepped over the threshold, and abruptly skidded to a stop. He now stood at the edge of the skimmer deck - a heart-stopping plunge to the wastelands in front of him. His heart in his throat, the helmsman whipped around. Hunching his shoulders, he dodged Cyclonis and vanished back into the _Condor_. Stork knew he couldn't evade her for long, but at least while she was occupied with him, she was not concentrating on his companions - dreaming or otherwise.

"The chase was amusing." The dark empress appeared once more in front of the terrified pilot as the scene shifted again, phasing into the _Condor's_ observation deck. She plucked an ice-blue crystal from her sleeve. "But I tire of it."

"Oh no." Stork tried to run, but the beam from the paralyzer stone hit him in the back. The electric blue energies coursed over his tightly wired frame, briefly outlining the helmsman before fading. Aghast, Stork found his joints stiffened, his muscles bound. He stood helpless, only his eyes twitching in horror.

"Much better." Master Cyclonis moved up behind him and, with an evil laugh, ran her hands up his bare back. "Ah, Stork, you need to learn to behave." Intrigued, she traced her fingers over the thin scars crisscrossing his skin. The crystal mage walked a circle around the Storm Hawks' pilot, stopping in front of him. "We'll just have to hit you where it hurts." The dark empress raised a hand to his hair. She fondled his ear, fingers playing in the two small silver rings set into it. "Let's just find out where that is, shall we?" Smirking widely, Cyclonis leaned in close and traced her fingers down his jaw.

Sweating under the Cyclonian ruler's caress, Stork panicked, his chest aching from his laboring heart, his skin burning from her touch. The empress was close enough that he could bite her - that is, if he could move. He flinched inwardly as she raised both hands to either side of his head, a cruel sneer twisting her lips. Stork suddenly found himself released from the paralyzer stone, but still bound as the crystal mage stripped his mind and searched his memories. In agony, the Merb dragged in an aching breath, shaking with the strain. Arching his back, Stork screamed. Then, mercifully, he passed out.

* * *

><p>AN - Please drop me a review and share your thoughts. Your comments are always encouraging!


	6. Chapter 6

Storm Hawks:

"**Something Like That**"

(This story takes place after episode (34 – 208) "Second Chances"

and before episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor")

**Rated T for some violence.**

**Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.**

**Stork's teammates are acting strange. Paranoia to the rescue! Stork centric, but all Storm Hawks involved.**

* * *

><p>"Wha . . ?" Moaning, Stork shook his head to clear the fuzziness from his vision. Master Cyclonis stood menacingly over him. Wincing, Stork blinked his eyes, and the figure clarified into Aerrow's form. Stork put a shaky hand to his temple. His head still hurt a lot, his mind reeling from being ripped apart and scoured.<p>

"Get _up_!" Aerrow stepped back, allowing just enough room for the Merb to rise, and yelled at him again. "You worthless piece of _trash_!"

Bewildered, Stork slowly climbed to his feet. He stood on an isolated ridge, the wide night sky dark overhead except where, on the horizon, the lights from a large shipyard bled into the night. Heavy square buildings squatted behind him, their silvery metal walls glinting coldly in the moonlight. He was no longer on the _Condor_. The carrier pilot's breath painfully caught in his chest and he anxiously swallowed the dread rising like bile in his throat. He quickly glanced at the stars to calculate his position, verifying his suspicion. He hadn't been on _this_ terra since before the wastelands, since . . .

"You think you can hide from me?" Aerrow yelled, his face twisted in rage and raised the short blacksnake whip clutched in his hand.

"Aerrow, stop!" Stork didn't run. It was always worse when he did. Immediately dropping to his knees, Stork cowered before his leader, his breath catching in his lungs. This was not Aerrow - this was Cyclonis' creation, a monster torn from his night terrors. He shuddered under the heavy bite of the whip, its tightly woven tip tearing into his flesh. Choking, he dragged in a ragged gasp. "We're teammates! Don't you remember going to Atmosia to sign up as a squadron?"

"Yes. We were denied. Master Cyclonis took us in," Aerrow spat bitterly. "You know what I want. Or do you prefer pain?" He raised the blacksnake again, and Stork recoiled with a whimper.

"That's not right!" The helmsman spasmed beneath the lash, wheezing and gasping for breath. "What about getting trapped in the Great Expanse? Don't you remember _that_? Radarr piloted the _Condor_ to safety! _Wake up_!"

"Radarr? Dark Ace came _personally_ to save us!" The Sky Knight raised his arm to scourge the recalcitrant Merb, the whip glistening wetly in the pale light. "Sent by our master!"

"No-no-no-no-no, that's not . . ." His words cut off in a strangled scream as the blacksnake fell again, raking deep red gouges into his back. Eyes darting about in terror, Stork writhed in agony. This memory, echoing the horrors from his past, repeating . . . how many times had he suffered this? The whip tore another scream from his throat, and Stork clenched his fists, clawing at the ground. He forced a ragged breath into his lungs. "You're a Sky Knight, Aerrow, don't _do_ this," he begged. Stork squeezed his eyes tightly shut, briefly considering giving in, just to make the pain stop. In his heart, he knew he couldn't outlast Cyclonis' nightmare, knew he had failed.

But then . . .. "What about the others? The squadron is the most important . . .." Talking more to himself than to Aerrow, Stork dragged in another wheezing breath. If he surrendered, the others would also suffer. "There's another word for it . . .."

Hesitating, the Sky Knight lowered the whip. The pilot's words summoned a vague, untouched memory. The image of all the Storm Hawks together, piled on the patched yellow couch in the Condor's hangar bay for one of their home movie nights, gave him pause. Stunned, Aerrow looked at the Merb at his feet and the blacksnake dropped from his numb fingers. "Family." Tears washed the crimson from his bright green eyes, and Aerrow faded from the dream.

* * *

><p>Livid at the loss of the Sky Knight, Master Cyclonis shrieked in rage. Gathering her crystal energies, she blasted the Storm Hawk carrier pilot, sending him reeling. Hands glowing with energy, she caught him before he fell, and pinned the Merb to the <em>Condor's<em> windshield. Outside the window, the dark clouds roiled angrily. Magenta crystal bonds snaked around his wrists and ankles, holding him immobile. "You! You've cost me the entire squadron!"

"My pleasure," Stork swallowed his horror and spat the words at the empress. His ragged breathing slowed, and he slumped, ears drooping.

"And so here we are. What am I to do with you?" The dark empress glided menacingly to stand directly in front of the pilot. "Your friends are not safe. Once I'm finished with you, they will again be mine."

"Do what you will. It doesn't matter," Stork murmured morbidly. He dropped his head, allowing his fine black hair to fall over his face, obscuring her from his view.

"I don't think so." Cupping the pilot's chin, Cyclonis forced his head back up and brushed the hair from his eyes. "What? No more resolve? No instinct for self-preservation?" She ran her fingers along the bleeding lashes marring his skin, her touch turning to caress. "You've been very well trained indeed."

Refusing to answer the mocking words, Stork turned his head to the side. Now that his teammates were safe - temporarily at least - and the horror had drained from him, Stork was spent. He sagged against his chains, waiting.

"Biding your time?" Angered by his lack of response, Master Cyclonis narrowed her eyes. "Your companions will not be coming to save you. They are - for the moment - beyond my grasp, but not for long." She placed a pale hand against his bare chest, feeling his heart nervously flutter beneath her palm. Pressing her lips to his ear, she murmured softly, "Rest assured, my pleasure will not be painless, nor will it be swift."

Turning to face her, Stork met her eyes and managed a smirk.

"What are you smiling about?" Angrily, she stepped back.

"Sorry, but as lovely as an agonizing death sounds," Stork quickly ran some calculations through his head, "I'll have to take a raincheck."

A small light on the trance shield clipped to his belt began flashing insistently and, his trance cycle complete, Stork, too, faded from the dream.

* * *

><p>Groaning, Stork opened his eyes and stiffly pushed himself up. Across the room, his caustic-waxwing-puffball lazily drifted to the side of the terrarium, tapping and suckering at the glass. Scattered piece-parts littered his workbench, Piper's book laying midst the mess. He ran a shaky hand over his bare shoulders, a humorless smile finding his lips. The lashes from the dream whip were gone. Springing from his bunk, he unclipped the trance shield from his belt and tossed it on his workbench. He unlocked the door, scooping his discarded shirt from the floor and slipped it over his head. Stork ran from the room.<p>

A relieved breath escaped the helmsman's lips as he sprinted down the corridors. The _Condor_, _his Condor_, looked exactly the same, but the halls were warmer, the metal brighter. And somehow more solid. "I sure missed you, baby."

Skidding to a halt outside the auxiliary room, he slapped the door activator and briskly stepped in as the portal swished open. Plucking a screwdriver from the shelf, he pried the climate control panel off. Stork bypassed the regulator array and, flipping some toggles, reversed the airflow. The helmsman set the air conditioning system to its maximum setting then adroitly snapped the cover back in place. Satisfied, he stepped from the room and headed back to his bedroom. The ship's inverted cooling array would clear the remaining lathestone from the _Condor_ in very short order. He brushed a powdering of frost from his shoulder. The snow spewing from the vents - exhaust from the modified climate control system - would be temporary. Stork grimaced and stepped into his room.

Wearily sinking to the edge of his bed, the Merb pilot sadly regarded the remains of his trance helmet. He would have to deconstruct the trance shield and rebuild the helmet. He worried, though, that he may have irreversibly damaged some components in his haste to assemble the shield. He would need replacement parts. The memory of the whip torn from his night terrors surged unbidden to the surface of his mind. Once he fixed his trance helmet, it would block those memories from terrorizing him as he slept, but what would protect him from the horror during his waking hours?

Overwhelmed, Stork dragged in a harsh breath and dropped his face to his hands. A whimper escaped his throat. Master Cyclonis was not through with him - he knew that much. She was one to hold true to her word - and one to hold a vendetta. Especially now that he had slipped from her grasp.

"Awesome prank, dude." The thick hexagonal door swished open. Finn popped over the doorjamb, a large tightly-packed snowball held in one hand. He shivered in his flame-patterned boxers, bare feet padding through the snow. The spiky-haired sharpshooter cocked his arm to throw it, but the sight of the Merb slouched on the bed, shaking uncontrollably, gave him pause. He turned and creamed Junko instead as the Wallop tiptoed through the snow. With a holler, Junko scooped up an armload of snow and chased Finn down the hallway. Chittering, Radarr scampered after the two, trying to keep his paws dry by leaping in their footprints.

Giggling as the boys tore past, Piper paused outside Stork's room. The crystal specialist had woken from bad dreams to the snow on the ship. Even though it was funny, too much moisture would doubtlessly ruin a lot of the ship's systems - not to mention their stuff - so she had come to stop the trick that the Merb pilot was playing on the rest of the team. Maybe her green-skinned friend was finally loosening up a little. Piper merrily poked her head in his room, but drew up short. He wasn't gloating at his teammates shivering in their pajamas, no evil grin twisted his face. In fact, Stork didn't look pleased at all with the stunt. He just looked terrified and exhausted.

"Stork?" Her eye caught on the remains of his trance helmet littering the workbench and Piper gingerly stepped into the room. "What did you _do_?"

"It's broken." Stork mumbled, his muscles spasming. He finally raised his head from his hands, his pale yellow eyes darting about the room. "I - I need to go to. Terra. Saharr. to. get. replacement. parts." he gasped, wheezing as his lungs constricted in panic.

"And . . . and your back? The other day I saw . . . or . . . dreamed?" Piper stumbled to a halt, valiantly trying to separate out dream from reality, but it was all too confused. What had they been doing lately?

Stork forced his eyes up to meet the crystal mage's. The dark-skinned girl's image wavered in his panicked gaze. He forced her into focus. Piper had seen his old scars back on Terra Tropica . . . but she had enough nightmares of her own to worry about. She needn't be bothered by his. The green-skinned Merb shook his head. "Nightmares, Piper. Just pipe dreams."

Unconvinced, but oddly unable to rely on her own memory, Piper slowly nodded. She picked up the defunct trance helmet. She forced a smile. "So, new parts from Terra Saharr, huh?"

Stepping into the room, Aerrow gently shouldered past Piper. He eyed his helmsman with concern. "Don't worry, buddy, if you'll jot down a shopping list, I'll send Piper and Finn on their skimmers." Terra Saharr was quite far from their current position, but their skyrides' fuel crystals would have enough charge to make the trip. The Storm Hawks leader knew the _Condor_ wasn't going anywhere until it was properly fixed, and it would be cruel to ask Stork to do that in his current state. Junko could take care of the obvious mechanical damages, but they needed the helmsman to handle the rest. A slight frown tugged Aerrow's lips. He vaguely remembered actually trying to force the Merb to do that very same thing, and he regretted it. He shook the thought away and forced a thousand-watt smile to his face. "They'll be back in no time flat."

Aerrow's smile vanished when Stork didn't reply. The helmsman was still shaking and jittering, his left eye twitching. Troubled, the Sky Knight waved Piper from the room. Without his trance helmet, Stork suffered from agonizing nightmares. He remembered when - a while ago - Finn had been goofing off and accidentally broke the helmet. While the damage had been minor, the team had to endure Stork's screaming night terrors until the pilot could fix it.

Aerrow sighed. His own dreams lately had been . . . disturbing. To think that he could ever be like that! even if it wasn't real. He almost wished that _he_ had a dream suppressor. With Stork's trance helmet in pieces, it was no wonder his helmsman hadn't slept well last night - though that didn't explain the snow.

His feet squishing softly in the slush on the floor, Aerrow slowly moved closer. He knew better than to touch the carrier pilot while he was in this state. Instead, he carefully sat on the edge of the bed next to him. The Merb cowered as he approached, and Aerrow pretended not to notice the naked terror etched on his face. He sat for a moment in silence, then spoke. "Nightmare, huh, buddy?"

Startled, Stork looked up at him with haunted eyes.

"Yeah, something like that."

* * *

><p>AN - That's all, folks! Please take the time to drop me a review and let me know how you liked it!

Questions or other comments? Feel free to send me a private message.


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